


Honey, You Shrunk Me

by Fangirlinit



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlinit/pseuds/Fangirlinit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka and H.G. spend a much needed day off with a picnic in the park. All goes well until an unexpected side effect of the food makes Myka shrink. Fluff and delicious French cheeses await you my readers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, You Shrunk Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a Tumblr post I wrote in response to the recently posted picture of Jaime with a magnifying glass. The story started out longer because I went a little nuts with the food descriptions (I love writing about food). I made some revisions to make it shorter, so hopefully you all won’t have an unnecessary craving for baguette with brie.

It was the perfect afternoon for a French-themed picnic in the park. When they arrived at their usual spot next to the beautiful plot of landscaping, Helena withdrew her arm from around Myka’s waist to set down the basket. The other woman unfurled the blanket down on the grass as Helena extracted the luxury items: the cheeses, Fourme d’Ambert and Pyrenees Brebis, a container of mixed Greek olives, an assortment of crackers, a loaf of French bread still steaming from the oven of the Univille bakery, and strawberries as a fruity companion to the cheeses. Lastly, out came a bottle of red wine. A very _old_ bottle of red wine.

“What year is that?” asked Myka as she looked curiously at the aged and crinkled label.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Helena scanned the label for a discernible date. “There does not seem to be a stamp of year.”

“It looks very old. Where on earth did you find it?” The brunette took the wine from other woman and studied it herself.

“I came across it in the Warehouse cellar. There were some rather fine reds stored there. I had no idea the Warehouse even had a cellar. Strange.”

“The Warehouse?” Myka raised a brow and stared at the writer. “Are you sure it’s such a good idea to be taking it out of the Warehouse, let alone ingesting it?”

“Oh don’t fret, darling. Nothing dreadful ever came of drinking a bottle of wine.” She looked longingly upon the wine, eyes dazzling. “Especially if it is a Marqués de Riscal.”

Myka sighed. “Alright. I’m willing to trust you… against my better judgement.”

“What a lovely compliment,” the writer snarkily remarked. Rummaging in the picnic basket she came out with a cork screw. She held out her other hand. “May I do the honors, then?”

Myka handed over the bottle with a smile. She leaned back on her hands and took in the sight around her. It was a sunny day without a cloud in the sky. The sounds of the park echoed about her; birds chirping and dogs barking gleefully as they ran alongside their owners. Her eyes came to linger on the form of a grunting Helena who was battling it out with the cork that just wouldn’t budge. “Don’t strain yourself, hon. This doesn’t have to be the perfect French picnic. We’re in Univille, South Dakota for godsakes.”

Helena gave out a puff of air and stopped straining with the instrument. Pouting, she whined, “But I want it to be perfect. We don’t get to do this often.”

“I know, I know. Work has been insane, lately. With Pete and Deb in Hawaii and Claudia visiting Josh, the assignments just don’t seem to stop.” She chuckled when Helena went back to her assault on the bottle. “Though I’m glad Artie finally realized how much stress he’s been laying on us. When he told us to take the day off I almost kissed him.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t.” Helena looked up and smirked defiantly. “Those lips belong to me.” With one finally twist the cork came free with a loud pop. “Aces!”

The rich burgundy liquid was splashed into plastic wine glasses (the park had a ‘no glass’ policy, to Helena’s dismay). While the priceless drink breathed, the two women sampled the cheeses and talked of non-Warehouse things.

When Helena voiced her opinion that it was the precise moment to sip the wine, Myka held out her glass to the writer’s.

“To French picnics,” declared Myka.

“To French picnics in Univille,” Helena countered.

The brunette scrunched her nose and shook her head. “How about to love?”

Helena heart melted instantly. She tipped her head and whispered, “That sounds perfect.”

“To love, then.”

“To love.”

Their glasses clinked, a plastic against plastic kind of ‘clink,’ but the lovers didn’t notice for they were only focused on each other in that moment.

Suddenly, Helena spotted a smudge of melting cheese on her scarf and stopped just before the cup touched her lips. “Oh, bollocks!” She snatched up a napkin to wipe the smudge. “This is brand new, I do not believe this!”

When she didn’t hear from Myka she looked up. Myka wasn’t there.

“Uh, Myka?” Frantically scanning around her. The park contained no tall, curly haired woman. Standing up she paced around the blanket, head batting back and forth. Her pulse started to race. She shouted this time. “Myka!”

Her ears picked up a faint reply. The sound was coming from the food covered blanket. “Helena!” And there was Myka, a meager two inches tall and sandwiched between the olives and the baguette.

Helena dove for her bag to reveal a magnifying glass which she held over the jumping figure waving her arms. She gasped, “Myka, why are you down there?”

“REALLY?! That’s what you want to ask me?” Mini-Myka screamed. “What about, ‘ _How_ are you down there?’ or ‘I’m sorry I gave you this lovely red wine THAT WAS ACTUALLY AN ARTIFACT.’”

“Myka, this is no time to act spiteful. Let me see if there’s anything left in the basket that can reverse the effects. Stay right where you are!”

The shrunken agent bounced her leg impatiently. “I got nowhere else to be!”

Helena returned with a square of yellow cake. “This is the cake I found with the wine. I figured it would pair nicely with the Marqués de Riscal.”

“Yeah, I BET it would pair nicely you -“

Helena interrupted what was sure to be another one of the woman’s charming compliments. “I suppose the wine you drank was what shrunk Alice Liddell back in the mid-1800s. If this cake was stored next to the wine I’m sure it would return you to your original size, as it did with Alice.”

“Just give me the cake!”

Helena broke off a crumb and placed it in front of the small woman. Within seconds she grew back to normal. Myka looked down at her enlarged self and patted her body to ensure that everything was in its proper place. Helena took a tentative step back as the brunette looked up to reveal a fuming red face.

“Nothing dreadful ever came of drinking a bottle of wine?” she quoted, narrowing her eyes into slits like daggers.

The writer backed up another step while wringing her hands nervously. “It was an honest mistake, really. There was no date. How could I have known it was the bottle Alice drank in 1863?”

Myka spoke slowly while advancing towards the woman. “It. Was. In. The. Warehouse.”

“I’m sorry!” Helena pleaded. “I never meant for this to happen. I just saw the bottle and thought it would be perfect for the picnic today.” Tears glistened in her brown eyes. She finished shakily, “I wanted this to be perfect for you.”

Myka’s anger softened at the shamed look on the writer’s face. She took a deep breath and let out the air along with the resentment. “I know you wanted it to be perfect. There is no one else who goes so out of their way to make an afternoon like this special. But Helena, you try too hard. I don’t need French cheese and expensive wine to be impressed. You know that.”

“Yes,” Helena mumbled, staring at her boots. “You are a ‘simple girl’ as you tell me so many times.”

Myka stepped closer and lifted her lover’s chin with a finger. “I’m _your_ simple girl. You already have me.”

Helena smiled at that. “And you have me.”

They shared a silent moment, looking into the depths of their eyes which opened to their souls. Speaking to each other through a flickering glance and a squeeze of the hand, they sat back down to their feast (sans wine).

“You just happened to have a magnifying glass in that basket?” questioned the brunette around a mouthfull of bread and cheese.

“Now darling, you never know when you might stumble upon a mysterious case. You should be glad I even packed it.” Helena pointedly said.

Myka rolled her eyes and threw a berry at the smarty woman. Helena simply glared and planned her revenge for later.

“Oh!” the writer shouted suddenly, hands flying into the air. “I can’t believe I forgot the chocolate!” Her hands disappeared into the basket once again. Seconds later she brought out a small dented box that was worn around the edges. The lid opened to reveal glossy squares of dark chocolate. Helena broke off a piece and offered the fragrant cocoa to a frowning Myka.

“The Warehouse doesn’t have a confectionery section, right?”


End file.
